


First It's the Spark

by seori



Category: Tortall - Tamora Pierce
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Forum: Goldenlake, Goldenlake Pentathlon, Goldenlake Wishing Tree, Series: The Song of the Lioness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-08
Updated: 2018-12-12
Packaged: 2019-06-23 21:19:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15615246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seori/pseuds/seori
Summary: Thayet isn't keen on Raoul's friend Jon, but then, Thayet's been wrong before. Modern AU in which Thayet is a barrister, who regrets agreeing to accompany Cythera on her first date with Raoul. Written for Fief Goldenlake's Pentathlon, plus bonus Wishing Tree chapter featuring Buri, who’s somewhat lacking in Christmas cheer.





	1. Kindling

**Author's Note:**

> Combining two events here - the first part is Sharp Shooter (200 word drabble), and the second Stormy Show Jumping (must feature a difficult or argumentative element).
> 
> Title from Amber Run's Spark.

Thayet leaned her head against the front door, letting the day wash over her whilst bickering floated through from the lounge.

"Thayet! Come tell Cythera that her Tinder date is probably going to murder her."

"Cyth, your Tinder date is probably going to murder you." Thayet flopped down onto the sofa.

"At least I'm not going for death by caseload." Cythera nudged the discarded files with her toe. "When are you going to sleep, Thayet?"

"When I'm dead." Thayet smiled half-heartedly, and then genuinely as Cythera pressed a hot bowl into her hands. "Thanks. Show me your would-be murderer, so we can pick him out of a line-up."

Buri climbed over the arm of the sofa as Cythera retrieved her mobile, but was quiet as Cythera flipped through Raoul's photos.

"Wait." Thayet snatched the phone. "I met this guy today."

"Raoul?"

Thayet proffered a picture of five friends. "No, the middle one. The smirker."

"Hey, his friends are hot. You should go for his friends."

Cythera ignored Buri. "Perfect. You can be my bodyguard! We'll invite Smirker; it'll be your night off from saving the world."

"I don't know, Cyth. We didn't exactly get along."

"Who said I was asking?"

\--

'Didn't exactly get along' had been a minor understatement.

Thayet glowered at the mirror, dragging a brush through her hair. The cramped second floor loo wasn't the place she had intended to get ready. It was just her luck to be caught unawares about the start of half-term, and the panicked father whose custody arrangements were falling down around his ears couldn't be put off until Monday. There'd been no time to slip off home, and she was running late as it was.

She'd run afoul of the Smirker at her chambers' networking evening. They'd recently acquired a hot-shot commercial barrister, and had decided to throw a celebration masquerading as a (very) early summer drinks party. Thayet had only bothered to mention it to Cythera's solicitor friend Gwynnen, reasoning her clerks would invite the rest of her clients.

The two of them had established a system at these events. Thayet would walk around for the first half-hour, making banal small-talk with various solicitors, and palming them off on the first viable person from her chambers. She would then hole herself up with Gwynnen for as long as feasible, with brief breaks to pretend she was mingling. (These breaks usually coincided with the need for a refill.)

One of these trips had resulted in her coming face to face with the Smirker. He'd been talking to Dain Melor - or, more likely, Dain had been talking _at_ him for some time. "Christ. Didn't know they made them like _this_ at your chambers, Melor. Where have you been hiding?"

"Oh, Thayet works in family law," Dain had said, the dismissal evident in his tone.

Thayet had glanced over the Smirker, his gleaming hair, the very expensive, well-cut suit, the watch peeking out from under his left sleeve. "Dain is one of our finest." They appeared to deserve one another, so she had no reservations about leaving him to Dain's less-than-tender mercies. "You're in extremely capable hands."

"And what if I'm having family troubles? Whose hands would I be in then?" His smile had clearly been intended to be charming, but Thayet rated people flirting with her in a professional environment somewhere below those who stood on the left on Underground escalators.

"Dain is an excellent listener."

In hindsight, she was thankful that it _had_ been a work environment, though perhaps it would have been easier to wriggle out of that evening if she'd let a few f-words fly. The problem was, Cythera was very difficult to say no to. Thayet had tried employing the same wide-eyed tactics, but she and Buri had concluded that the sincerity of Cythera's disappointment couldn't be manufactured.

It didn't matter. She could get through two hours - three at the absolute most. She applied her lipstick, a vivid red stain that felt like protective armour, and blotted carefully.

The wine bar was a ten minute walk from chambers. If she left now, she would only be half-an-hour late… but it was tempting to sit down at her computer and answer a few e-mails.

No. She faced down barristers with years more experience in court; she wasn't frightened of sitting in a bar with some slimy City lawyer.

Solom's was busy as Thayet stepped inside, and it took her a few minutes to locate Cythera over by the back windows. In fact, her eyes first fell on an unexpected addition.

"What are _you_ doing here?"

Buri turned, and immediately looked as though she'd been caught out. "I thought, well, if Thayet is going to be Cythera's bodyguard, who is going to be Thayet's?"

Buri's motivations would have to wait for later. Cythera, ever the perfect hostess even when not actually hosting, was making introductions. Thayet filed the names away, and allowed them each to kiss her cheek perfunctorily. Raoul was a giant of a man, but she liked his good humour and open nature - something not shared with any of his friends, so far as she could tell. Gary and his girlfriend Delia had apparently intended to spend the night in, and were reluctant to forgo a second of foreplay. Alex was dry and sarcastic, and the Smirker was… also there.

That wasn't precisely fair, since Thayet had positioned herself at the opposite end of the long table. Jon seemed to be entertaining Cythera and Alex, and even Delia had stopped trying to use Gary as breathing apparatus long enough to listen to one of his stories.

Raoul proved interesting, to Thayet's delight. He regaled Thayet and Buri with stories of his team-mates, and Buri revealed a surprising wealth of knowledge about his rugby club. Once or twice, Thayet was close to calling her on it, but reminded herself in time that Buri didn't usually make much effort with new people, and it was promising that Buri would try this hard with somebody Cythera wanted to date. Cythera's last two boyfriends had been terrified of Buri, and though Thayet continued to pitch it as a valid litmus test, Cythera was yet to be convinced.

Eventually, Raoul declared it his turn for a round, and Jon seized the opportunity to play musical chairs. "Hope you don't mind, but I figured we should get to the part of the evening where the two people on the date actually spend some time together."

"Why would we mind?" Buri snapped, glaring down the other end of the table. "Please, tell us about your life making money for people with money."

Jon looked taken aback, as well he might. Thayet, accepting a new glass of wine from Raoul, decided Jon could handle himself. "I - well, I'm the third Conte generation at my firm."

"Fascinating. I always find it so interesting when people decide they need to breed their replacements."

Thayet bit down hard on her inner lip, struggling not to laugh.

To his credit, Jon rallied well. "And what untrodden path are you forging for yourself?" he asked, with that disarming grin again.

"I teach martial arts." Buri bared her teeth in an almost-smile. "Let me know if you would like a demonstration." 

"You know, Alex has been talking about taking up something in that vein. He used to do fencing once upon a time, and I think he misses it. Why don't you-?" He halted, as Buri vacated for the other side of the table. "Was it something I said?"

How could she explain to somebody that it was something - everything - he represented? Thayet didn't bother. "She can be a little abrupt."

Buri wasn't the only member of the company well-versed in making others feel uncomfortable; Thayet offered no follow-up conversation.

The men, she discovered, had all been to school together, and perhaps it was this pseudo-brotherly bond that prompted Gary to rescue Jon. "Thayet," he said, as though his girlfriend didn't have her hand as far up his thigh as possible, "what drew you to the bar?"

It was a topic Thayet was passionate about, more so when faced with Gary's kind eyes. She told him about giving a voice to people, how she really felt she made a difference in people's lives, how pro-bono work-

"Oh, _God_ ," Delia snorted. "I remember Johnny going through all that. The amount of people who want something for nothing - that's what you used to say, isn't it, darling? Absolute graspers, the lot of them."

Thayet's hand trembled, and she placed her glass on the table. "You don't _have_ to do it," she said levelly, eyes fixed on Jon who at least looked embarrassed.

"You do if you're going to be partner." Delia grimaced, and Thayet realised how much more pleasant she was when her mouth was otherwise engaged.

"Oh, my mistake," Thayet bit out, fumbling for her purse in her bag. "How silly of me to think it was about giving people _access to justice_ and helping out the less fortunate - of course it's one of those vile stepping stones on the way to your million pound bonuses." She drew in a steading breath, and decided she really had to take a break now, before she exploded. "Anyway, it's my round."

Cythera's powers of empathy were strong enough that she joined Thayet at the bar. "I take it Mr. Smirk isn't to your taste?" 

The drive not to spoil Cythera's night led Thayet to shrug off the whole conversation. "He's not my type, no."

"Good." At Thayet's questioning look, Cythera folded. "He's got a - oh, maybe she's a girlfriend, but someone he's stringing along, in any event. Alex says she's a nice girl - their parents are friends - but Jon's using her, for, you know. Sex."

Thayet rubbed her forehead, tiredness swamping her. "Cyth, would you mind if I went home? I've got a horrible headache. Raoul is definitely the least murderous of the lot, anyway."

"Oh, Thayet, of course not. Look, give me two minutes to say goodbye, and I'll come with you."

"Absolutely not," Thayet said firmly, knowing she would need to slip away quietly so that Buri also stayed. Buri would be Cythera's best defence against the piranhas of the City. "If you try to come, I'll stay out all night, and make sure you'll regret it tomorrow."

Cythera's eyes crinkled, and she hugged Thayet. "All right. Message me when you get home."


	2. Ignite

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for Cross Country Run (800+ word fic: open theme).

"You're cooking."

Thayet had never seen Buri look so bashful. "I'm having a small party of friends over, and there will be some food."

"You're having a dinner party. With our three chairs."

"We're having an informal get-together." Cythera yawned widely, stretching out her arms. "It's going to be wonderful. Let me see who's around."

Thayet waited until Cythera had left the room, and then fixed Buri with an unimpressed look. "Buri, are you trying to steal Cythera's date?" 

She was forced to follow Buri through to the kitchen, and found the fridge door blocking her view. 

"No. Cythera likes Alex now. Something about his fencing stick, or the way he uses it, or something." Buri closed the door, and met Thayet's accusing gaze. "Oh, come on. It's the truth. I stuck it out last night to make sure she was okay, and Alex charmed her pants off. Not literally. Maybe literally."

"And… you're seeing if the way to a man's heart is through his stomach? Buri, I don't know if poisoning Raoul is the way to go."

"Struck a deal with Pat," Buri said smugly, filching one of Cythera's apples from the fruit bowl. "He’s doing the actual cooking. He's going to introduce his boyfriend to me, and I'm going to limit myself to three offensive things all evening. If tonight goes well, I'll even smile."

Thayet had to hand it to Buri. She had a way of getting what she wanted.

\--

The party was in full swing when Thayet ventured out of her bedroom. The Limpets, as Buri had dubbed Gary and Delia, were taking up most of the sofa, and the Smirker was engaged in conversation with a blonde. It didn't take Thayet long to locate actual friends. Alanna and George stood in the doorway to the garden, oblivious that they might be blocking anybody else's escape route.

"Thayet!" Alanna's face lit up, and Thayet remembered, as ever, why she liked the other girl. "Ah, shame you couldn't do anything about that natural beauty for tonight, eh? Hey, let me introduce you to a friend of mine - Johnny, come over here!"

'Johnny' was, of course, the Smirker. Thayet stared at her socked feet as Jon made his way over, wishing she at least had a glass of something in her hand for the ensuing awkwardness. 

"Johnny and I know each other from uni. He - say, George, could you grab us some drinks from the kitchen? Thanks, love - took me under his wing. He's awesome, I think you'd-"

"We've met," Thayet interrupted, trying to bring an end to the conversation with her flat tone.

"All right. Well, even if you don't like him, maybe you can hold his hand for a little bit and get him away from his bitch of an ex-girlfriend. _Both_ ex-girlfriends - Johnny, you really have terrible taste - before they claw his eyes out or worse. Look, he's only a feeble little thing."

" _Alanna_." Jon buried his face in his hands. It was sort of unfair how good embarrassment looked on him.

Alanna spread her palms wide, shrugging. "What? I talked you up, she's not taking it, and honestly, Thayet - oh, thanks, love - you'd be doing us all a favour if you got Josiane to leave early. Genuinely saving lives."

Thayet snorted, taking her own drink from George. "Saving lives? She doesn't exactly look like the axe-murdering type."

"You mustn't be so prejudiced," Jon said seriously, and Thayet almost smiled. Almost - it wouldn't do to encourage him too much.

"Oh, Thayet, there you are!" Cythera appeared, always Thayet's knight-in-shining-armour. "Come on, love, I'm _dying_ for you to meet Alex properly. And you're welcome," she added, once they were out of Jon's earshot.

Thayet turned, finding Jon watching her from the doorway. 

\--

The party was still going after Thayet had retired to her room, having grown frustrated with Cythera's 'Alex says', and Buri's - well, neither Buri nor Raoul had been seen for at least an hour. Everybody bearable appeared to have coupled off, leaving her feeling like a spare part.

She'd only just pulled her pyjamas on when there was a knock at her door. Expecting it to be Cythera, Thayet flung it open. Instead of Cythera's sweet, penitent face, the Smirker's arch brows loomed. Thayet was flummoxed, barely able to comprehend the steaming cup on offer.

"It's not poison. You look like you think I would vacate a perfectly good party just to poison you in your bedroom."

Dazed, Thayet stared down at the mug in her hands, the blue china proclaiming it to be one of Cythera's set.

"I wanted to make sure you were okay, that's all."

It snapped Thayet back into the real world. "You can't expect me to believe that."

He frowned at her, crossing his arms over his chest. "I'm sorry?"

She winced, eyeing his defensive posture. Clearly, she'd come across sterner than intended. "You've got one, if not two ex-girlfriends lurking around outside. You're looking for a hide-out."

Jonathan grinned, and she backed up involuntarily, turning to find a place for the mug on her bedside table. "You've got me. Sanctuary, dear sweet lady, pray give me sanctuary."

The inappropriateness of his being in her bedroom seemed to strike them both at the same time, but swells of chatter and laughter were bursting into the room. Thayet thought it unlikely that she would manage to sleep through the party as it was.

"If you pass me my dressing gown, I will allow you to seek sanctuary here."

He flashed a smile at her, closing the door and lifting her dressing gown off the hook. "I wish I'd known how fluffy this was before we agreed terms."

Thayet plucked it from his hands before he could try to negotiate further. "We don't renege in this household, Conte." It was a little warm to be wearing it, but she was grateful of the added coverage. She wriggled so that she was upright in bed, back against the headboard. "All right. Entertain me."

Jon - who, now she thought about it, seemed to have an easy grace about him - relaxed into her computer chair. "I feel like your court jester, Majesty." He gave the chair an experimental spin. "What would you like to start with - guillotining the poor for non-payment of taxes? Or would you rather bathe in the blood of virgins?"

Laughter bubbled to her lips, impossible to quell, and Thayet set her cup back down for fear of spilling the tea over her bedsheets. "It worries me that's what you thought of first. Perhaps it's best that nobody has crowned you."

"So you didn't crown me King of All Evil?" Jon asked, swinging around to face her desk, and fiddling with her array of highlighters. "That's interesting."

To give her a second to collect herself, Thayet took a sip of the tea, and nearly spat it out again. "Ugh - how much sugar is in that?"

"Thought you might need sweetening."

"Don't think I won't go find Josiane."

He looped his arms around the arms of the chair. "Nah, I reckon I'm pretty safe here. You wouldn't want the blood bath spoiling your decor."

"It is a nightmare to get out of the rug," she agreed, feeling her veins fizz to life as he grinned at her. This was a mistake - this was all leading somewhere, and she was sitting there in her sheep pyjamas, letting it happen.

Presumably, Jon's mind was running along a similar track; he voiced the thought that she was considerably less intimidating as a wolf in sheep's clothing.

"I would think that, having dated a potential axe-murderer, you wouldn't find little old me intimidating at all." Emboldened by his snort, she continued, feigning an air of nonchalance by fiddling with her dressing gown's tie. "How did you end up dating her? Did Tinder lead you astray?"

The tension in the room crept up as she realised he was watching her play with the knot; suddenly her mouth was dry. Jon shook his head, tucking his hands behind his head, and choosing to stare at the ceiling instead. "My dear old mum worries about me getting lonely, and tries to set me up. And I, well, I found out Alanna and George got engaged. Josiane was a casualty of that, I'm afraid, though perhaps too intent on bloodlust to be a-" He stopped, correctly reading her expression. "Oh, you didn't know."

She felt her view flip; there was such a vulnerable expression on his face that she had to keep her fingers laced in her lap to keep from reaching out for him. This Jon was a world away from the one she had met at the social. 

"It was a uni thing." Jon swung around in the chair, presumably regretting his candour. "I knew about George, but I thought - well, whatever. I thought wrong."

Did Thayet purposefully go around collecting Alanna's exes? "I dated Liam," she blurted out, feeling she needed to redress the balance in some way. "I was going to ask him to move in with me, and then-"

It stopped Jon; he cocked his head, obviously knowing enough of the story to fill in the blanks. "Well, my learned friend, it seems you and I are roadkill on love's motorway."

Thayet threw one of her pillows at him. "I bet you say that to all the girls."

"I save it for the pitiful specimens." He stuck the pillow behind his head, looking as though he intended to stay for a while. Thayet's insides squirmed at the thought. "God, I'm sorry. I meant to give you your tea, check you were okay, and apologise for being a jerk the other night, and now I've gone and unloaded everything."

"That's all right. I lied about Dain being a good listener."

Jon chuckled, leaning his head back and exposing the line of his throat. 

"Can I ask why Josiane seems to think you're still dating?"

He exhaled, closing his eyes. "Who knows. I think someone's in her ear, but I can't work out who that would be. She's formed an unholy alliance with Delia, who's got her claws into Gary. You might have noticed that part."

"They're more intimately acquainted with my sofa than I am."

"I'll buy you a new one. I have Gary's card details."

It was difficult not to bristle at the offer, but she relaxed herself with a small effort. It was probably made in jest, and in any event, it was natural he'd be more casual about money than she. "Give me my pillow back, and we'll call it even."

Jon frowned at her. "What, this pillow? You're mistaken; this is _my_ pillow. You gave it to me. I don't return gifts; it's rude."

"I threw it at you," she pointed out.

"Well, then, it's a hostage. My prisoner of war."

There was only one thing for it. Thayet climbed off the bed, and tugged hard at the pillow. The motion propelled the chair around, catching her off-guard and she tumbled into Jon's lap. Hot shame flooded her, and she placed her hand on the arms of the chair, trying to work out how best to extricate herself.

"Look at that," Jon murmured, sounding delighted. "I swept you off your feet."

The moment that had catapulted into Thayet's top five most embarrassing moments of all time took a drastic turn for the better as he cupped her jaw with his cool fingers. 

"I don't suppose you'd mind if I kissed you?"

"Suppose not," she managed, and then - _of course_ \- someone rapped on the door.

"Thayet? Thayet, are you awake?"

Thayet closed her eyes, and rested her forehead against Jon's. "Cythera," she murmured. "I have to go; she'll come in."

She opened the door carefully, shielding Jon from Cythera's view, and assumed her grumpiest expression. It wasn't hard.

"Oh, Thayet, did I wake you? Sorry, Alex is looking for Jonathan."

"Why is Alex looking for Jonathan in my bedroom?" Thayet asked, raising an eyebrow at Alex, who had come to join Cythera.

"Sorry, Thayet. He's been missing for a while, and we've checked everywhere else. It's poor Josiane I'm really concerned about. He barely spoke to her all evening."

Thayet resisted the urge to glance back into her room. "Maybe she should have gone home. Maybe _you_ should take her home, Alex. Be a good Samaritan, and let me get some rest."

Alex gave Thayet a long, considering look, and then was gone, Cythera trailing in his wake. 

Thayet exhaled, and closed the door, to find Jon right behind her. "That was-"

"I don't care," he answered, and kissed her.


	3. Burnt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for Synchronised Swimming (must feature teamwork or a harmonious element).

Thayet looked at the grey stone steps, the white facade of the lower floor, and frowned. Alanna had never asked her to meet anywhere like this before - they were usually strictly South of the River types. She couldn't even think who she knew in Islington, until Gary answered the sound of the lion knocker.

He looked unenthused to see her, and didn't bother with a welcome. She followed him silently down a set of stairs (how big was his house?) into a cosy living area, where she began to understand why she had been invited.

"For God's sake, Jon, we're trying to help you here, and all you want to do is shack up with your flavour of the month?"

Thayet considered this particularly rich coming from Gary.

"Actually, I invited her," Alanna said brightly, stepping into view. "Thought we could use an extra head, since Delia seems to have sucked out most of your brain cells."

Jon was frowning, though he made room for Thayet beside him on the corner sofa. "I don't really want Thayet involved - sorry, Thayet. It's a family matter."

"Myles is hearing rumours that Jon's firm is about to be taken over." Alanna spoke solely to Thayet, ignoring Jon. "His parents have been very quiet, but asked him for dinner tonight out of the blue. We don't know who else is going to be there, but it seems likely his devil-worshipping cousin will make an appearance, and I don't think Jon should go alone."

Jon smiled tiredly at Thayet, and she felt her heart skip a beat. He was supposed to be making Junior Partner soon. Any incoming firm would be unlikely to want the old guard's son at the helm, or anywhere near it. "Alanna, much as I appreciate you, if I were going to choose a diplomat, you'd be last on my list."

Alanna rolled her eyes. " _Obviously_ , you big jerk. Obviously, I've brought you a Trojan horse, only, you're all so busy thinking with your nether regions that there's no blood left to go to your brains."

It was only a split second before Alanna's revelation that Thayet felt cold dread down her spine.

"She's Adigun Wilima's daughter. You want a connection to another firm to buy you time, Thayet is your way in."

And there it was. Her father, who had told her that she would come crawling back eventually, would be proven correct. She folded her hands in her lap, and pinched the web of her right hand between her opposite index finger and thumb until she felt she had herself under control. Gary and Alanna were engaged either in a vocal debate or a shouting match, and Jon - Jon was looking right at her.

"Hey, I don't want you to do anything you don't want to do," he murmured. "There are other ways around it."

"We don't talk," she said, equally soft, "Not since I was fifteen. If you're looking for a grenade for this evening, I can do that, but I can't do anything more."

"Gary, Alanna, go next door."

Neither individual struck Thayet as being the kind to follow orders, but there was something commanding in Jon's tone. The two exited through what looked like a kitchen, rather than leaving the way Thayet had entered.

"The house is my father's, and Gary's family own next door's," Jon explained, stretching his arm out along the back of the sofa. "Luckily, neither of our families likes town that much, so we get the run of it."

Thayet tucked herself into his embrace, wondering at how easy it was to be physically comfortable with him so soon. "All right, get me up to speed. God, I'm going to have to find something to wear."

"There's this red dress in one of your profile pictures." Jon's fingertips skated along her left arm, and she shivered pleasantly. "That would be perfect."

"I see you've been cyber-stalking." She was, quietly, pleased; he'd been distant of late. Now, of course, it was easy to see why.

He held his hands up, in mock surrender. "I think we can technically count it as research."

They lay comfortably for a while, his hand stroking through her hair, and she told him about her parents. The divorce, the expensive custody battle so her dad could prove his strength and wealth, how her mum had left for Australia as soon as Thayet had finished school. How Buri's family was almost Thayet's own, these days. 

How, maybe, she'd like to use the connection for good. It would make a change.

"Only if you want to," he cautioned, sitting upright so he could look at her whilst they spoke. "Honestly, Thayet. There's a chance that this is all blown out of proportion."

Jon didn't look like he was convinced, and Thayet wasn't either. Alanna's adopted father was well-connected, and he wouldn't have spoken without believing it to be true.

"We'll go along tonight, and play it by ear," she conceded. "Should we reassemble the War Council?"

He took her left hand, and threaded his fingers through, pressing a kiss to the tips of her fingers. "We could. Or… I could show you around?"

"Seems fair," she demurred, letting him draw her into a kiss. "You've seen my room, after all."


	4. Charcoal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for Frisky Fencing (must feature a humorous or light-hearted element).

"You'd have thought that these would be charcoal all the way through, but somehow, they're raw in the middle." Jon sounded fascinated as he peered inside his burger. "Buri might be the worst cook I've ever come across."

Thayet stretched out on the grass and tucked her arms behind her head. Years of Buri-related cooking disasters had taught her enough that she hadn't even bothered to look at the food, and she knew without checking that Cythera's plate would be similarly empty. "I can tell her that, if you like."

"Christ, no. She wouldn't care how true it was; she'd probably pin me down and force feed my own entrails to me. If I caught her in a good moment."

This seemed like as suitable a time as any to mention that Buri's mother had invited him for dinner. Thayet opened her eyes to catalogue his reaction, and couldn't hold back a grin. Her own mother would love how grey his face had gone, and was probably already planning a list of things for Buri's mother to quiz him about.

"Is Buri's family… much like her?"

"Carbon copies, every one." It wasn't true, of course it wasn't, but it would do Jon some good to worry about something other than work for a change. His cousin Roger had slunk off with his tail between his legs after his recent defeat, but she doubted he was finished.

Jon was silent, and she thought he was taking in the prospect of his imminent demise, but apparently, he had other things on his mind. "I _think_ we've had divine intervention. Cythera's taken over."

Thayet had been about to sit up, but determined it wasn't worth the effort. "Great. She'll charcoal everything evenly. Ashes to ashes..."

Jon groaned. "Why on earth are you hosting a barbecue if none of you can barbecue? Christ, look, _I'll_ do it."

"No, you won't." Thayet looked at him from over the top of her sunglasses. "Cythera has the damsel-in-distress act down by this point. Let some other brave soldier be her knight in shining armour."

Sure enough, though Jon grumbled about it, next time Thayet looked up at the barbecue, Cythera was flanked by three men.

"Oh, no. No. I'd rather eat Buri's food than anything Gary's been involved in."

"I'll get us takeaway," Thayet offered, closing her eyes again. She'd place money on Gary and Cythera being too distracted by one another to be of use, anyway. Later, she and Buri would high-five over Operation Burning Love being a success when they spied Gary's shoes by the door. 

For now, she heard Jon huff and puff above her, but eventually, he evidently decided it wasn't getting him anywhere, and lay down next to her. With the summer sun warm on her skin, and Jon's fingers curling over her left hip bone, Thayet couldn't think of much to improve the afternoon.


	5. Faux Ho Ho

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for Fief Goldenlake’s festive Wishing Tree, for the endlessly wonderful Lisa, who requested something about Buri.

Faux-Christmas was a big deal in the little terraced house on the corner.

It was Cythera's fault, of course. Buri was adept at blaming Cythera for all manner of things, primarily for taking up so much of Thayet's time. Also for leading Thayet to Jonathan, who sucked up even more of Thayet's time. This year in particular, it looked like faux-Christmas was as close as Buri would get to spending the day with her friend. Or anyone, what with her family off to Australia for the winter.

She sighed, attracting Thayet's attention. "Sorry, Buri, are we keeping you from something?"

That tone might give Thayet's opponents in court pause, but it didn't affect Buri. She must have built up some kind of Thayet-related immunity over the years. She yawned and stretched her legs out on the sofa, pulling Cythera's favourite blanket over her. Noting Buri's preference for this particular blanket, Cythera had bought Buri her own. Buri continued to take Cythera's.

Thayet's eyes were still fixed on Buri, obviously expecting a response, but Buri outwaited her. Eventually, Thayet returned to the tangle of Christmas lights, looping the freed lengths around her neck. 

"I think red and gold should be our colour theme this year," Cythera demurred, sorting through the boxes of decorations.

Buri and Thayet shared a look, Thayet's eyes warm with the exasperated affection she often displayed when confronted with Cythera's idiosyncrasies.

"I hear blue is in," Buri, who had no idea about these things, suggested. "Everybody on instagram seems to have blue decorations up."

Thayet's eyebrows rose in a clear warning sign. Buri chose to ignore it.

Cythera didn't miss a beat. "Well, when you have your own tree, you're welcome to decorate it however you choose," she said, so sweetly that Buri had to run the statement over again in her head.

Gary was certainly having an impact; Buri rather liked it. 

"Thayet, why don't you take Buri on a booze run? We could use some more mulled wine for this evening."

"She thinks you're making a mess," Buri clarified, in case this had escaped Thayet. "You are, let's face it, being less helpful than me."

It took several minutes to untangle the lights from a particularly wicked knot in Thayet's hair. Buri hung over the side of the sofa, offering advice and the kitchen scissors.

\--

"All right, out with it. What's got you channelling the Grinch all of a sudden?"

Buri paused, dumping an armful of Camembert into the trolley. "I don't know what you mean."

Thayet's expression said she wasn't fooled, but she let the matter lie. "Careful with that cheese; no one will want to sit under the mistletoe with you."

Just for that, Buri reached for the Stilton. "What time's Lover Boy arriving?"

"If you mean Jon by that, I think around 8. Gary's promised Cythera he won't set foot over our threshold until at least then. He offered to come help, but with the way she reacted, you'd have thought he was suggesting skinning puppies in the living room."

Unable to help herself, Buri grinned. "'But the house will be _naked_ '," she said, in what she felt was a passable imitation of Cythera's Home Counties accent.

Thayet snorted.

\--

Their house was a veritable winter wonderland. They couldn't have been at the supermarket longer than an hour, but Cythera had transformed the place, with twinkling lights, merry baubles, and so many candles as to constitute a serious fire risk.

"Do we have a fire extinguisher?" 

Buri yelped as Thayet stood on her foot. "It looks great, Cyth! I love the paper chains."

Well, if they wanted to burn the place down, who was Buri to get in the way? Cythera was evidently pleased with herself, wiping floury hands on- oh, no.

"Are you _baking_?"

Thayet's head whipped around. She looked sort of green, but that could be the lights, of course. "Cythera, darling, I'm not sure that's - maybe you're taking too much upon yourself?"

"Nonsense," Cythera said, returning to the scene of the crime. Buri followed her into the kitchen, but stayed in the doorway in case she needed to make a quick exit. "It's just mince pies. I can put the wreath together whilst they're in the oven."

Buri watched as she carefully spooned filling into the misshapen cases. At least nobody would mix up Cythera's creations and the shop-bought versions.

Gary would have to eat them, though. The thought cheered Buri immensely.

\--

"You said it was just a few people."

Thayet blinked, frowning. "Buri, what's your issue? You've already met everybody here. There can't be more than fifteen of us."

Her issue was in fact exactly that - she had already met, and more than met, everybody, and one hulking figure in particular. Buri pressed her lips together, and didn't offer anything further, swinging her legs from her perch on the countertop.

"All right, but tomorrow, we're talking about this," Thayet warned, but she always had given in easily. She seemed to take Buri's silence as tacit agreement, which it wasn't.

Buri ladled out two spoonfuls of mulled wine into mugs, taking care to scoop raisins into both, since she thought she'd heard Jon say he disliked them. She pushed the mugs into Thayet's hands, and picked her phone up, making it apparent Thayet was dismissed.

Next time she looked up, Raoul was in the doorway. She glanced at this boy, upon whom earlier in the year she had pinned a lot of hopes, and turned away.

She'd last seen him at Thayet's birthday, and he'd been easier to dismiss then. Apparently he'd asked Santa for some courage; he cleared his throat. When she ignored that, too, he said, "So, this is where you've been hiding."

"I'm sitting in the kitchen, Raoul; it's hardly the most unobtrusive place."

He crossed the room. Really, it wasn't a big kitchen, and it only took him two strides to make it across to Buri. "Did I do something wrong? I'd like to make it right, if I could."

That wrong-footed her; she had counted on her frosty attitude (and Cythera said she made no concessions to the season!) keeping him at bay. "If you don't know, I can't help you." It was hard to explain her pride had been hurt by his retreat, hard to admit she had tried to play the dating game according to Cythera's rules, and had, apparently, lost.

"Okay." Raoul blew out his cheeks, and Buri considered how unfair it was that he was here, taking up so much space in her kitchen, and looking so good in his ridiculous Christmas jumper. "I think I might have been a bit of an arse. We were getting along, and I dropped the ball. Things got busy at work, and-"

"Are you trying to say 'sorry'?" Buri asked, kicking her heels against the kitchen cupboards. "'Hey, Buri, I'm sorry for ignoring you. I'm sorry I like money so much. I'm sorry that I think an apology doesn't need to contain the word 'sorry', or even sound like an apology'."

She thought she might have gone too far, but he grinned, folding his arms over his chest. "That's an uncanny impression."

"Pompous arse is my speciality."

"You do it well." Just when he looked like he might be on the verge of apologising, he changed tact, leaning against the side. "Impressions and great Christmas parties. Quite the CV."

"This is an impression of a Christmas party," she retorted, refilling her own mulled wine.

Raoul seemed unsure of himself again. Good. "All right. What are you doing for the big day itself?"

Inadvertently, he'd hit on her sore spot. "Home alone," she said flippantly, jumping down off the countertop. "At least I won't have anyone pestering me." With that, she took her mulled wine and made off for her bedroom.

\--

"I figured out your problem."

Thayet, who was so precious about her own privacy, hadn't bothered knocking. Probably, she knew that Buri would never have invited her in.

Buri ignored her, focusing on her tv instead, but Thayet switched it off. Buri knew she should have pulled her chest of drawers across the doorway. She really did not want to have this conversation.

"We fed you after midnight. Poor old Gremlin Buri."

She smiled despite herself, and tried to quash it, but it was too late. Thayet had seen it.

"Raoul came to speak to me. He seems to think you'll be on your own for Christmas. Told me off, actually, or tried to."

This time, Buri fought the smile by pinching her lips together, but Thayet seemed to take it as a victory anyway.

"Buri, I'm not staying with Jon over Christmas, you goose. I'll be back on Christmas Eve, and we'll do what we always do. Die Hard, Pad Thai, and then we can count how much coal you got in your stocking this year."

Oh.

"I think people on the naughty list just get one lump of coal," Buri commented thickly, sniffing. She hoped Thayet would take it as a sign of her lingering cold.

"I think Santa would like to let you know you've been extra naughty," Thayet replied, holding her arms out. "Come back to the party. Jon's worried about you; he spent ages hunting down a Christmas jumper that he's sure you'll hate, and he says you haven't even commented on it."

After a moment, Buri clambered out of bed, wrapping her arms around Thayet. "I always hate Jon's clothes. How am I to know when he's being intentionally offensive?"

"That is a very good point. Shall I fix your eyeliner?"

"If you must," Buri grumbled, secretly pleased.

\--

She allowed Thayet to lead her back to the party, and saw all the hallmarks of her kind, careful friends. Gary moved to let her have the prime sofa position, next to all the goodies on the coffee table. Jon fetched her alcohol, and she conceded a remark on his abhorrent outfit choice by way of reward. Cythera even gave her the iPad so she briefly had control over the Spotify, but that only lasted a few bars into _Ra-Ra Rasputin_.

George engaged her in a vigorous debate on martial arts techniques, which she was actually enjoying, until a shadow fell over them. "Love, why don't you come and try some of Cythera's mince pies? She baked them herself."

"You must be very persuasive," Buri remarked as Raoul took George's place. "Alanna's willing to risk George’s health and general well-being for you."

"Alanna heard I didn't actually manage to say the word 'sorry' in my apology," Raoul said ruefully. He was holding a fresh plate of Camembert, but moved it out of Buri's reach. "Wait a moment. I'm sorry. I - everybody else was moving so fast, and I got scared. I liked you - I _like_ you. I was a jerk."

Buri nodded. It was a relief to have the confirmation that she hadn't been imagining it, and that she hadn't ruined things. "You were a jerk. Give me the cheese."

He brought the cheese in front of him. "What kind of cheese do you use to coax a bear out of a cave?"

She smiled unwillingly. "That's terrible. Camembert. Give me."

This time, he obeyed, placing the cheese and a plate of bread between them. "How does Good King Wenceslas like his pizza?"

"I will have you thrown out of this house."

He grinned at her. "I'd say that you wouldn't dare at Christmas, but I don't think that would sway you."

Buri chewed a piece of bread, surveying the room. Jon had caught Thayet under the mistletoe (disgusting; did they need another excuse for a public display of affection?), Gary was making encouraging noises about Cythera's baking (but the plate of mince pies seemed as full as ever), her brother Pat and his boyfriend had found the crackers and were unravelling them all. "I think I'm warming to Christmas."

Raoul's eyes crinkled in that way she liked, and she felt strangely hopeful. "Glad to hear it."


End file.
